Forget
by seri-chan
Summary: Bulma's thoughts on 'The Breakup.' She's struggling to escape from her depression. Meanwhile, Vegita is staying strangely close to her...
1. Default Chapter

A/N: I'm finally writing a one-shot. I'm a whole lot more used to chapter stories. Well, this fic deals with Bulma's feelings after the "Breakup." It's called a quote-fic. Everyone has heard of song fics, but I've always liked reading quotes, so I wrote a fic with quotes. Just so you know, the quote isn't mine. I got it off of a website, can't 'member which one. Heh, hope ya like it!

Disclaimer: If I only own Dragonball Z in my dreams, then let me sleep forever.

**Forget**

**_Forget the times that he walked by_**

Bulma growled in frustration, flinging another antique vase at the wall. Her parents had recently vacated the building, not prepared to handle their daughter's volatile mood. 

          She grabbed another priceless antique and flung it at the light blue wall. It smashed against the wall and shattered into a million pieces. At this moment, there were no conscious thoughts in her head. There was only anger and hate. And even though she refused to admit it, there was a horrible pain, buried deep in her heart.

          Bulma thrust her hand out to grab another vase. She frowned in surprise as she realized that her hand wasn't closing on anything. With a start, she jerked back to reality, grimly surveying the mess. There were broken mirrors, vases, statues, everything in the room was either shattered, or nailed to a wall. Bulma looked around. It took another few minutes for the reality of the situation to hit her. With a small, broken moan, she slumped down onto the floor. Bulma buried her head in her hands.

          '_I want to cry,'_ she thought. Her form quivered in pain and anger. With a roar of anger, she brought her fists over her head and slammed them onto the floor. She blankly stared at her bloody hands, and then grit her teeth as she removed the large piece of glass from them. With a sigh, she stood up and slowly glided across the door, an air of eerie calmness emanating from her. She walked out of the room and moved slowly down the stairs, lost in thought. Her foot missed a step, and she began to fall down the long staircase. _Maybe it would be better like this_, she thought sadly. She closed her eyes and resigned herself to her fate. 

          At the last second, a pair of warm, strong arms caught her, pulling her up and supporting her against his body. With a start, she opened her eyes and stared at a pair of fathomless, black eyes. Her first thought was '_It's him!' _Then she realized she was staring into those dark eyes, and not up at them. 

          "Thank you, Vegita," she whispered. She pushed herself away from him and continued to walk down the corridor. Vegita stood, staring after her, his dark, immeasurable eyes blazing.

          Bulma stumbled down the passageway, using the wall for support. She didn't know where she was walking to, only that wherever she ended up at, it would be quiet.

          Her mind thought back to what had just happened. _I really thought that was him for a second. Their eyes are so similar. _She sobbed softly.

          _Yamucha__... _

**_Forget the times he made you cry_**

          It hadn't been that long ago. Funny, it felt like an eternity. When had it all taken place? Only a few hours ago. Contrary to popular belief, Bulma didn't have Yamucha wrapped as tightly around her little finger as she liked to believe. In fact, they were both pretty much independent of the other in many ways. Yamucha had ditched his cheating ways years ago, and now, the two had stayed together in relative happiness.

          They didn't live together. They never really had.

          Yamucha had his own little house a few blocks away from Capsule Corporation, and visited Bulma every single day, frequently taking her out to clubs, little restaurants, and amusement parks. Bulma had always liked that; she didn't really enjoy expensive places that much.

          Deep down, the two knew they loved each other. But Yamucha had discovered one simple little fact first: they were best friends. Yamucha loved Bulma as his best friend.

          That was the one thing she couldn't accept.

          Deep down, Bulma had always known. Deep down, she had always known that their simple, happy relationship could never turn into a real, passionate, loving one. Because they didn't love each other like that.

          Even so, it was still hard to accept the fact that it was over.

          Bulma continued walking through the corridor. All of a sudden, she stopped. In front of her was one picture. It had been taken about a year ago. At a Christmas party.

          Yamucha and Bulma had been walking through the doorway, laughing and talking. Mrs. Briefs had suddenly popped up, and, giggling, pointed out the mistletoe hanging above their heads. They had both blushed, and then Yamucha had grabbed her chin, and kissed her softly. It was only a month later, when she noticed the picture hanging on the wall, that she had realized her mother had took a photo of the sweet event.

          Bulma softly ran her finger down the glass covering the photograph. A single tear ran down her face.

**_Forget the times he spoke your name_**

          Bulma grabbed the photo of the wall and brought it up to her face, studying it carefully. In the background, Goku and Chi-Chi were snuggling on a couch, and Gohan was doing a goofy dance with Krillin, who appeared completely drunk. And all the way in the back, the Saiyajin no Ouji sat against the wall, staring right into the camera. There was a furious look on his face, one she had never seen before. 

          She placed the picture back on the wall, and backed away. With a sigh, she continued walking down the hallway. She stumbled and fell against the wall. Bulma sighed, half in sadness and half in frustration. _Where's Ben & Jerry when you need 'em?_ She suddenly realized what she had fallen on. There was a door right there, hidden mostly by a large tapestry. Vaguely, she remembered entering that door once, a long time ago, but right now, she couldn't recollect what was inside.

          She pushed aside the tapestry and punched in a code into the keypad. It was a simple number; 749. It was the year when _everything_ had happened. When she had met Goku and Krillin. When she had fallen in love with her sweet desert bandit wanna-be. And no matter how much she protested, that had been the happiest year of her life. She used that number on just about everything, so it was only logical that the door's enter code was 749.

          With a shudder that indicated it had been a long time since opened, the door slid open slowly.

          A cloud of dust rained down on her gorgeous lavender hair, but at the moment, she was too depressed to notice. She blinked, trying to adjust her eyes to the dim light. The room was lit only by a single light on a desk, and there was no light switch. She tried to walk to the desk, only to stumble over a cardboard box. She groaned, and then took a closer look at the box. It was labeled only 749. She used a small pocket-knife to cut the tape that was holding the box together. She opened it and looked in.

          Inside was a kitana, gi's, pressed flowers, and a single dragonball. With a small gasp, she lifted the kitana from the confines of the box, and studied it carefully. There was no doubt about whom it belonged to.

          _Yamucha_.

**_Remember now you're not the same_**

                Bulma grabbed a random capsule and ran out of the house. As soon as she had exited, she threw the capsule with all of her might, and ran into the cloud of smoke. She threw open the door of the car and ran in. With a sob of frustration, she shoved her keys into the ignition and slammed her foot on the pedal.

          This time, there was no doubt about where she was going.

          Her vision blurred with tears, and she blinked rapidly to clear her eyes. Bulma tossed her hair over her shoulder and drove outside the city limits. Just over the horizon, a crop of mountains loomed ominously. She had no reason to be afraid, though. Those mountains were exactly where she was heading.

          After an hour of steady driving, Bulma pulled up to a trail at the base of the mountains. She switched gears and started her car up the trail. Halfway up, the road opened up into a small clearing. She ignored it. Instead, she pulled out a small knapsack. She had stuffed the kitana inside of it just before she ran out of the house. Shouldering the small sack, she capsulized the car and started the long trek up the mountain.

          Bulma remembered coming up this mountain when she was a little girl. Her daddy would pick her up in his arms, boost her up to his neck, and let her ride on him until they were at the summit. Later, she would walk up the mountain herself; not for any emotional value, but the simple fact that a day of hiking would burn off an entire pound. 

          The summit was also the place where Bulma and Yamucha had first kissed.

          Around a year after they had met, Bulma had convinced Yamucha to go hiking with him. They had struggled up the mountain for an entire day, and when they reached the top, Bulma had thrown herself on a picnic blanket and fallen asleep.

          When she woke up, she wasn't lying on a blanket. Instead, her face was buried on a pillow, and the picnic blanket was covering her. It turned out that Yamucha had ran back down the mountain and retrieved a pillow, then hiked back up, all before she had woken up. He had wanted her to be comfortable.

**_Forget the times he held your hand_**

          Bulma had sat up, and there was Yamucha, just staring at her with a smile on his face. He had been extremely tired after his mad dash to and from the house, but he had still stayed awake to watch over her.

          She had been puzzled, not exactly understanding the motive behind his sudden kindness. Sure, he had always been sweet, but he had never gone so completely out of his way to please her before. It was normally small little favors that she treasured, but were too often looked over and taken for granted. 

          Bulma had patted the space beside her, and when he sat down she had laid her head on his shoulder, relishing the moment. It was strange, but those memories were the ones that convinced her that they didn't love each other as deeply as she wished. Those memories played an important part in her life, but there was a brotherly tenderness in the way he had held her for the last few years.

          The fact that they were growing to consider each other as siblings didn't exactly stop the jealousy, though. A few months ago, another heated argument had broken out, and of all people, it was about _Vegita__._

          Bulma grinned to herself. Yes, no matter how much she denied it to Yamucha, no matter how much she denied it to _herself_, there was no way she could be able to hide her feelings from everybody much longer.

          The very first time that she had seen him… well, not _exactly _the first time. The first time that she had ever seen Vegita had been on Namek-sei, and she had been too blinded by fear to really look at him. But after that, when she discovered that an alliance had been formed between the senshi and the proud Saiyajin prince, something flashed inside in a place she wasn't even aware she had. Her first thought, even before '_Gods, what a bastard,' _was _'Gods, he's beautiful.'_

          Even now, when her heart was bleeding, she couldn't help but chuckle through her tears. The first time she had really observed the ouji, she knew that she wanted him. Bulma knew that she desired Vegita in a way that she had _never_ felt for Yamucha. Bulma had never let Yamucha touch her in a way that was too forward. She hadn't even let him kiss her until about a year after they had first met. But whenever she looked at Vegita, a strange feeling would burrow its way into her heart, and she would have given anything for him to touch her, for him to hold her. 

          It had been quite a while before she recognized the emotions that she was feeling, and even then she had received help.

**_Forget the sweet things if you can_**

Completely confused as to what feelings were coursing through her body, Bulma had made the long trip to Mount Paozu. Chi-Chi had been one of her closest friends for almost a decade, and was the only one she could completely confide in.

Chi-Chi had been surprised and happy to see Bulma, and had greeted her with open arms. After hours of cleaning and cooking, this visit was a pleasant surprise. They had sat down together and Bulma laid her heart out, spilling her deepest and innermost secrets about Vegita, and everything she felt for him. 

Chi-Chi had been, at first, shocked and angry to see her best friend so completely taken with the man that had almost slaughtered not only her husband and child, but the entire human race. However, after a bit of persuading, she had become a bit more at ease with the idea, and had given Bulma her verdict.

Bulma was completely and undoubtedly in love.

The news had come as both a shock and a relief to the lavender-haired genius. It was a relief to see her most complex emotions so smoothly laid out. It was a shock to discover that she was in love, not with Yamucha, but with Vegita.

And now, as Bulma reached the summit of the mountain, she realized that it had been true. She had loved Vegita, she always had. But somehow, that realization didn't do much to dull the pain of losing Yamucha.

Bulma sat down at the edge of the cliff and stared absentmindedly down. So many thoughts, so many regrets coursing through her mind. She wished that she had appreciated him just a little bit more. But it was all gone now. Bulma lay down on her back, staring up at the clouds. In the end, it didn't really matter. Yamucha was gone, and no amount of sobbing or screaming would ever bring him back. 

Bulma choked back a sob. He really was gone, wasn't he? Bulma let out a shuddering breath, and opened her knapsack. Slowly pulling out the kitana, she held it up to her face. It would be so easy to just end it right there. It would be so easy to plunge the sword straight into her heart. Or better yet, jump off the mountain. So easy…

She jerked back to reality and frowned. Bulma had never taken the easy way out. The easy way was almost always the cowardly way, and Bulma was no coward. Add that to the fact that Bulma was in no way suicidal. Still, the temptation… Bulma raised the sword above her head…

And plunged it into the ground.

**_Forget the times, and don't pretend_**

Bulma gave a shaky smile. There was no way that she would ever be so desperate as to attempt to take her own life, especially over a break-up. Smiling a bit more freely now, Bulma lay back down, staring but not really seeing anything. Come on. She was _Bulma__ Briefs._ Brilliant, determined, headstrong, and rich. 

It was strange. In those few moments when the kitana had been in her hand, it was as if all the bitterness and pain poured out of her. Because maybe, Yamucha wasn't as gone as she thought. After all, he lived only a few blocks away. The romance that they had shared in their younger years was replaced with something stronger, something that simply couldn't die.

Their friendship was definite. Their friendship was the sole thing that had caused her to drive the kitana into the ground. The sword was a monument to all the joys that they had shared. And maybe some would think that it was corny or childish, but the fact was that she _had _to do it. The kitana was now the visible proof that maybe she could move past the hurt of their parting. Slowly, she began to walk back down the hill.

It was almost midnight when she pulled into the driveway of Capsule Corps. And strangely enough, she wasn't the only one still awake. As she capsulized the car and turned around, she saw a movement out of the corner of her eye. Spinning around, she peered into the darkness and saw him.

Vegita slowly walked toward her. There was a strange look in his eyes, but it was obvious that he was furious. His dark eyes bored into her own, freezing her in her tracks. A few more steps and he had reached her.

"Do you have any idea how late it is?" he asked. His voice was cold and deadly, but it was enough to jerk Bulma out of her reverie. 

"Does it really matter?" she said boldly. Then, staring at him out of the corner of her eye, she took a step toward him. "It's not like you _care_, or anything."

Vegita looked clearly taken aback by the question, but he recovered immediately. "The gravity room hasn't been working, and I needed you to fix it." he finished a bit slowly. Bulma grinned triumphantly at him.

"That's strange, because it doesn't look as if its been used all day." She grinned happily. "Aww, Veggie-head was worried about me." Paying no mind to the livid look on his face, she turned her back to him, started walking away, and promptly tripped on a large rock.

Bulma closed her eyes in anticipation for the moment when she would collide with the ground, only to be caught yet again by a pair of warm arms. She looked up at Vegita, only to see him staring intently into her eyes. Any remark she might have made had suddenly disappeared from her brain. He slowly righted her, but kept his firm hold on her arms.

"I wasn't worried," he whispered hoarsely, in a voice so low she wasn't sure if he had even spoken. He lifted a hand and traced the contours of her face, letting it travel across the bridge of her nose, her cheek, her chin, and finally her lips. He brought his face down and brushed his lips against hers, at first softly, and then more intently. Bulma's eyes widened. '_Oh God,' _she thought. _'Is this really possible?' _He pulled away, hand once more resting on her face.

"I wasn't," he whispered. Then, without a backward glance, Vegita walked back into the house.

Bulma stood rooted to the spot, her eyes unnaturally wide. Then a small smile slid across her face, and she followed him inside.

**_Remember, now, he's just your friend._**

****

A/N: ^^ That's the end! Umm, I think that it turned out rather nicely, considering that one-shots aren't my forte. I finally dished out a B/V one. If you're a reader of my other fic "Love of the Sun," don't worry, I haven't given up, I just wanted to take a break. If you're not a reader of LotS, then GO READ IT! Okay, you dun have to, but I'd appreciate all of the reviews that I can get. So R/R, and remember that I love you all!


	2. Poll

Hey everyone!  No, this isn't the second chapter of Forget.  I had originally planned for the story to be a one-shot, but since almost everybody that reviewed wanted a second chapter, I'm considering it.  However, I don't know what to do.  Should I make the second chapter from Vegita's point of view?  Or should I continue this almost as a saga, writing about the wives of DBZ, and their feelings on their husbands and lives.  If I choose the first option, there will only be one chapter.  If I choose the second option, I'll also write about Chi-Chi, Juuhachigou, and, depending on the reviewers, I'll also continue the story of Lunch's relationship with Tenshinhan, and possibly Pan's, Bra's, and Marron's feelings toward the men of DBZ.  So I'll have two polls.  

1) Do you want the next chapter devoted to Vegita, or to the women of DBZ?

2) If you choose the second option, should I pair Pan with Trunks, Bra with Goten, and Marron with Uubu?

Remember to vote!


End file.
